


The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 13:29:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1690031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boy just stands there on his doorstep, unfased by the negative temperatures. He raises an eyebrow, "Well? Aren't you going to let me in?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway

**Author's Note:**

> I know. Cheesy title... Just bear with me here.

The boy stands there on his doorstep, unfased by the negative temperatures. He raises an eyebrow, "Well? Aren't you going to let me in?"

 

All Russia can do is gawk at him. The boy looks no older that 20 years of age, and his wearing all white, except for his hat, which is orange. That orange hat is the only part of him that doesn't blend in with the snow behind him. He looks even paler than Prussia, and that's something. That's not the only reason for Russia's staring. All the kid is wearing is white jeans, and a white hoodie, his hat, and a pair of mittens. The mittens are probably the warmest article of clothing that he's wearing, and the boy doesn't look the least bit cold. Russia takes a breath to speak, but then thinks better of it, instead stepping aside to alow the boy enterance into his home. Who the hell is he?

 

"Thank you, Russia," He says. Russia tenses. He has no idea who this kid is, but this kid somehow knows who he is. He eyes the symbol on the boy's hat. He vaguely recognizes it, but he's not really sure how. It's a white A with a semicircle that appears to have two hands holding it beneath the letter. 

 

"Do I know you?" Russia finally asks after a moment of silence.

 

"You should, though I don't really blame you if you don't. To be honest, I'm pretty sure that I'm forgotten more than Canada." He says, his icy blue eyes lowering to the floor. Then, "Does Vostok Station ring a bell to you?" 

 

December 16, 1957. The date rings throughout Russia's mind. That was when Vostok Station was established in Princess Elizabeth Land, Antarctica, by the 2nd Soviet Antarctic Expedition. Russia had never been there himself, but he remembered that day vaguely. That was the symbol on the boy's hat then. His flag. 

 

Russia raised his eyebrow at Antarctica.

 

"Ah, so you do remember who I am. That's a first. I went to visit America a few months back and he never figured it out. I didn't tell him who I was either, so you could probably imagine his confusion." The boy responds with a small smirk on his face. 

 

It explains why he seems so unfased by the cold. He is used to colder. 

 

"Yeah, well Amerika has never been the brightest, da?" Russia laughs, trying to act at ease, but failing considerably. Although the continent poses no threat, Russia still can't help but feel uncomfortable by his presence. He barely knows the guy, and he has already draped himself across a chair, seeming to make himself right at home. Then again, he technically isn't owned by anyone, so he probably is used to doing whatever the hell he wants. The rules don't apply to him. 

 

Antarctica lights up at Russia's response, pushing his slipping glasses back up, "I like you. Can I keep you?" He says suddenly, and Russia is miffed. He stares at the boy in confusion for a minute, and then the boy breaks out into laughter and Russia realizes that he was only joking. "But honestly, it's really lonely down there. The only people to talk to are either scientists or penguins- I prefer the penguins to be honest. The scientists are- well- scientific and stuff, and it gets old after a while." Antarctica says. 

 

"Well," Russia begins, eyeing the boy curiously, "You can feel free to visit whenever you get lonely," it'd be nice to have someone who understands isolation to talk to. At this, Antarctica lights up even more than previously, his icy eyes widening behind his glasses. 

 

"Really!?" He asks in wonder. He's never had a friend before. What's it like to have a friend. Especially one as powerful as Russia. Maybe being friends with Russia will finally get him noticed, although that's not really his goal. After a moment, he speaks again, "I'd like that a lot."

 

Then, Antarctica glances at a window. "It seems it has stopped snowing," He says with a small smirk on his face. 

 

Russia looks out the window too, and grins at Antarctica, "Indeed, it has." He says in a cool voice.

 

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" The continent says, slipping his mittens back on.

 

"Da, I am thinking the same," Russia says, his grin growing even larger. He turns and shrugs on his coat and slipping on his gloves. Then, the two of them practically dash out into the newly fallen snow, tumbling over one another as they fall. The snow is soft and breaks their falls, and they both sit up laughing hysterically. Then, they get to work. They each begin packing small balls of snow, and once each is big enough, they begin to roll them. Russia rolls his until he can't roll it anymore, and then he shuffles through the snow over to Antarctica to help him roll his over. Then, they both, with some struggle, lift it onto Russia's, and set to work on making a smaller one. This one, it doesn't take very much effort to lift onto the top. Then they both step back and admire their handy work. Before them stands a snowman that is nowhere near perfect. 

 

Antarctica frowns at it for a second, before stepping up to it, "He needs a face!" Then he begins drawing a face on it with his thumb. After a minute, he steps back. "Tadaa~" He says in a singsong voice, grinning at the face he drew. His smile seems to light up the world. Russia can't help but feel slightly happy that everybody else forgets Antarctica. That just means that he can have the adorable continent to himself. 

 

He walks up to Antarctica and hugs him on a whim, and whispers in his ear, "Ты мне нравишься. Могу ли я держать вас?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ты мне нравишься. Могу ли я держать вас? - I like you. Can I keep you?


End file.
